Chapter Text
You find yourself at my door,
Just like all those times before,
You wear your best apology,
But I was there to watch you leave
“Oh... what are you doing here?” Sock asked though he really meant was, it’s not nighttime and you can’t be drunk so why are you actually here? Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck standing awkwardly by the door like maybe he was regretting showing up. “It’s just that you don’t show up unless... you’re... hungry... um, do you wanna come in for breakfast?” Wow nice save there Sowachowski, really know how to not make this completely awkward.
“Ye-yeah, sure. Breakfast sounds good actually.”
“C-cool,” Sock stuttered as he stepped back to let him in. Keeping his hands in his pockets to resist grabbing him and kissing him senseless Sock turned toward the kitchen and turned the stove on warming the pan as he pulled more eggs out for scrabble eggs. “How’s life? Everything going okay? I haven’t seen you in months.”
Technically not a lie since they haven’t really had a proper conversation in almost two months. Jonathan relaxed playing into his role, “Yeah, life’s okay I guess. Started a new job last month, sales associate at the music store downtown, Music Surplus. You should check it out, it’s really cool. Uh, how about you, how’s college?”
Sock smiled as he scrabble the eggs, “Great. My professor says I’ve improved a lot in my writing. Says my stories are the best she’s read in—shit—never mind forget I said anything. Um, college is good. Work too, I got promoted.” Sock was already regretting opening his big mouth. He forgot where he was at and forgot that nighttime Jonathan is a completely different person from daytime Jonathan. If they were in a relationship it would make complete sense to talk about his writing but they weren’t so he shouldn’t.
“Writing? What stories do you write?”
“I said forget it,” Sock punctuated as he emptied the pan into a plate for Jonathan. He handed him the plate and fork as Sock went around him to grab the TARDIS mug for coffee. I can’t do this. Placing the mug on the counter he slid the cup over before walking out of the kitchen and closing himself off in the bathroom.
“I can’t do this,” Sock whispered as he clenched and unclenched his hands on the counter and stared at his own reflection. His eyes were wide and he could feel the prickling of tears in his eyes. He couldn’t pretend everything was alright when he could feel these feelings suffocating him on the inside. The only way Sock was able to keep them at bay at night was because he had an outlet of kissing Jonathan and running his hands down his back.
Sock had nothing this time around. Pretending that nothing was happening between them, acting like he didn’t know the taste of Jonathan by memory, was killing him. Sock didn’t realize until today how badly he wanted their no-strings-attached to have strings. He wanted Jonathan, all of him, not just nighttime him—not just drunk Jonathan, but sober, clear-eyed Jonathan.
“Fuck,” Sock said and because it seemed to help he said it again. Breathing in deeply he stood up straight pushing his shoulders back and left his sanctuary to talk to the blond who had a strong grip on his heart.
The kitchen was empty with untouched eggs resting on the counter next to the TARDIS cup.
“Fuck!”
“Wait, let me get this straight.” Jojo said leaning on his couch in his old home, while his mom was away running errands, because he ran home after his small meltdown in the kitchen last week. “You’re telling me after that dick pulled a dick move and left you high and dry to lick your wounds he sneaks back in and you, what, go for it. Not only is that a stupid idea on SO many levels but you agree to be his what? Drunk booty call? ...and when he finally deems to show his face in broad daylight and sober you freak and when you come out he’s gone?”
“Joane...” Sock warned.
“No,” she glared. “I’m ranting so you get to sit your butt there and listen in on all the ways you seem to fuck yourself over. Have you tried contacting him since the kitchen debacle? No, don’t answer. My guess is you send him a text which he most likely ignored. Did you call him is what I’m asking.”
“No,” he mumbled.
“Jesus Christ Napoleon. You’re a hot mess.” Joane covered her face with her hands as she groaned annoyed. “Go. Call him right now. In front of me so you can’t cheat. Call him right now. Decide if you want to let him go or man up.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Call him now; put it on speaker so I know you’re calling.” Sock sent another withering look at her as he did what she ordered. The room seemed to echo as it rung once, twice before going straight to voicemail. Sock schooled his face trying to keep from crumbling.
“Oh...” Sock managed to say putting his phone down on the couch between them. “May-maybe he’s busy working or something and couldn’t answer my call. That might be it.”
Jojo shook her head at him trying to comprehend what happened to her friend. Why would he make excuses to her of all people when she knew the truth? But looking closer she noticed he was trying to convince himself more than her which was kind of sad to be honest.
“No,” Jojo stated as she grabbed his phone scrolling to his contacts before dialing from her phone. “We’ll see if he’ll ignore my call.”
“What? Jojo, no,” Sock exclaimed as he went to grab his phone but she dodged him easily and already had her phone ringing on speaker. His heart jumped to his throat as Sock heard it ringing ominously. One... two... three... four... he’s not going to answer—click.
“Hello, who’s this?” Jojo glared at Sock not to speak when he opened his mouth. She smacked him when he tried again. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hello again,” Joane purred as she smirked while Sock watched helplessly as she narrowed her eyes at him. No talking, only listen, she mouthed. Sock, as reluctant as he was to give her full reign, stiffly nodded. I mean, she did get Jonathan to answer his phone while he couldn’t. That stung too. “It’s nice to finally talk to you one-on-one again.”
“...Jojo?”
“Oh good, you do remember me.” She grinned glancing at Sock with a knowing look.
“How did you get my number?”
“Well,” she said leaning back and getting comfortable. “I called you first through Napoleon’s phone but you ignored it. And why would you do that if you’re only friends? I originally thought maybe you were busy so I called you through this number and surprise, surprise, you answered.”
“I answered because I didn’t know the number.”
“You could’ve ignored it and let it go straight to voicemail if you really wanted. But you didn’t. So that begs the question, why did you ignore Napoleon’s call?” Jojo asked getting straight to the heart of the matter. Sock gulped when she nodded at him conveying without words that this was going to get ugly real quick.
“I am busy.”
“You can’t bullshit me Combs,” she strikes sitting up from the couch. “So I’m going to ask you again and I want the truth this time. Why are you ignoring his calls?”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“—He told me you know.” She quickly added before the blond on the other line could hang up. The silence that followed felt like an eternity wondering if Jonathan heard it or if he really did hang up before that. Sock held his breath not knowing which option he wanted. Did he want Jonathan to have heard that or not?
“Told you what?” the air came back into the room as Sock deflated still feeling on the edge.
“About your nightly visits,” Joane answered and ignored the panicky look on Sock’s face. Instead she forged on wanting Jonathan to finally admit it. To finally do something because this ambiguity was causing so much grief. Sock needed clarity, he needed closure. “And please try to reframe from denying it because it’s becoming quite tedious.”
“Jojo,” Sock hissed.
“Hush,” Jojo said as she covered the phone.
“Was that him?”
“Oh, did that spark your interest? Yeah, that was him, I told him to go back to sleep.” She answered without missing a beat, “I tired him out good. Guess I have to thank you for that. He really hit it out of the park if you catch my drift.”
She was trying to provoke him, Sock realized. Just like she got him riled up for his birthday she was doing it again. Sock could hear it in Jonathan’s breath that that got to him too. If he was jealous then there was still hope, right?
“Is that why you called, to gloat?”
“Actually no,” Jojo laughed, “Funny that you would think that. If Napoleon means nothing to you then why would this upset you? Can you honestly answer that to yourself?”
“It doesn’t bother me.” Denial.
“Really, then you wouldn’t mind if I make my claim on him.” Jojo said calmly which sent a chill down Sock’s spine. She sounded too sincere there. ‘You’re wonderful. You’re the best I’m going to get.’ Maybe Sock hadn’t noticed that Jojo liked him as more than just friends.
“Do whatever you want.”
“Fine,” Joane growled tired of his bull. “Napoleon is mine. And you are to stay away from him. You hear me? I don’t want you to fuck him up anymore than you already have Jonathan Combs. So, Stay. Away. From. Him.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can keep him for all I care.”
Dead silence.
Jojo looked up at Sock to see his eyes starting to water as he stared blankly at the wall. He didn’t make a sound as hot tears slid down his face, he didn’t even move just stared at the wall. Her heart broke for him as she watched her best friend fall apart without sound.
The last time she saw him cry like this was when his father walked out when he was eight. Jojo still remembered that feeling, the utter despair, of watching him cry yet not making a sound, of not moving, or not doing anything but staring off as tears slid down his face. She was just as helpless then as she feels now. And she really hated Jonathan Combs right now for making Sock catatonic.
“Sock...?” she said gently trying to coax him out of his state because who knew how long he would stay like that if she didn’t. He spent hours like that last time and for an eight year old that was terrifying. “Sock, honey, can you hear me?”
The wait for him to react felt forever as he blinked and turned his face toward her. “Jojo... I...”
“I know, I know,” she answered as she watched him squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed.
“Oh God, I’m... I’m sorry. I know you d-don’t wa-want me to—.” He tried to say between breaths as he sobbed in earnest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
She reached for him pulling him into her arms trying to provide a sense of protection, “Shh, shh, it’s okay. Let it out. It’s okay. I’m not upset; cry it out. It’ll make you feel better. No, I’m sorry.” Jojo let him cry not minding that her shirt was going to be soaked because she could feel her own eyes well up with tears. Napoleon was in pain and so was she.
Sock was only able to stay for another two days before he had to come back. However, if it wasn’t for work and school he would never come back. He already set Norris and Cleo down as they ran out the window eager to explore. The only silver lining in the trip back home was a change of scenery for his cats. They really enjoyed exploring new terrain but we’re more than happy to be back on their own turf.
Dropping his duffle bag filled with dirty clothes Sock stared at his small apartment with a heavy heart. This was the place he met Jonathan and spent majority of their conversations in and his best memories were in his bedroom. Sock had to shake his head from that train of thought and dump his clothes into the washer before putting detergent inside.
Walking down the path to the kitchen, Sock got himself some water from the tap before chugging it down. He really needed to clean up the place and since he didn’t want to let his mind wander he pushed up his sleeves and began.
###
His place hadn’t look so clean since he moved in. Most of the stuff was recyclable or trash and that cleared up a lot of space. Sock had even put another load of laundry and had his clothes currently drying when he got into the kitchen and started pulling out ready-mixed cookie dough.
I should probably bake some and go over to Lil’s place to binge watch Sherlock. Sock was desperate for some time away from his house and maybe Sherlock could help him forget for a few hours. Sock just itched to do something, anything, from thinking about him.
Thirty minutes later, Sock stood by the door waiting for Lil to answer with a plate full of cookies. “Hey.”
“Oh hey Sock. I didn’t know you got back.”
“Yeah, I got in a few hours ago. I baked some chocolate chip cookies.” He smiled lightly.
“Can’t go wrong with that,” Lil hummed as she stepped back, “Come in, come in.”
Sock took one step forward before freezing at what lay inside. He recognized that shade of blond hair anywhere and seeing those blue eyes rooted him to the spot. There suddenly wasn’t enough oxygen in the air as Sock felt his blood pumping faster and the itch under his skin to run away grew. “I... I just remembered I have to do something. Totally spaced, sorry. Here, have them.”
“You don’t want to come in even for a little bit?” Lil asked trying to coax him inside confused at the sudden change. “Jonathan’s inside too.”
“No, no. I just wanted to bring you these cookies.” Sock backpedalled taking two steps back. “You can return the plate later... but um, yeah, I gotta—bye.” Sock turned around turning the key back into the lock and rushing back inside slamming the door shut. He was leaning on it like any second Jonathan was going to push it open but Sock had to remind himself that he wouldn’t.
“He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.” Sock whispered under his breath trying to bring his erratic heart back to normal. He banged his head at the door so he’ll have something else to concentrate. When he felt sparks of pain radiating from the back of the skull he exhaled.
Pausing for a minute, Sock grabbed his beanie and scarf before heading outside. “I need a drink.”
Sock waited, but he didn’t have to wait long for Jonathan to show up. He knew his pattern and Sock had anticipated it. Taking a good gulp of Vodka, Sock got up from the bed opening the door when Jonathan got close and tugged him inside as he open-mouth kissed Jonathan. Sock wrinkled his nose as he stepped away from Jonathan going to the side of the bed to retrieve his bottle.
“Here,” he tossed the drink, “You’re much too sober for this.”
Jonathan caught it by reflex as he blinked up at Sock before opening the bottle and swallowing two mouthfuls. He coughed as it burned down his throat. Sock came back taking the bottle from him to drink some more. Sock drank the Vodka like a pro not even coughing from the burn. Closing it and sliding it back to the bed; he grabbed Jonathan by his coat’s collar and pulled him back in for a kiss.
Jonathan resisted, being the more sober one of the two for once but Sock ignored him. Pushing his coat off Sock pulled his shirt up and over his head as he kissed down his throat. There was that moment of hesitation before Jonathan gave in and brought his mouth on Sock’s neck.
Sock hummed in approval as he turned them around pushing Jonathan on his back before chucking off his shirt and unbuckling Jonathan’s belt. With surprisingly steady hands Sock popped the jean’s button open and unzipped it as he pulled them off with his underwear. Standing back up Sock pulled his sweatpants off revealing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. With a gleam in his green eyes, Sock crawled up to kiss Jonathan before working his way down licking, biting, and nibbling all Jonathan’s sensitive spots until he got to the juncture between his legs where he opened his mouth wide and swallowed him whole.
“S-Sock,” Jonathan gasped knotting his fingers in the brunet’s long hair as Sock’s head bobbed up and down bringing more rasped gasps and moans out.
Popping out wetly Sock wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before sitting up and leaning over to reach for a foil packet and a bottle of lube. Blue lust blown eyes watched mesmerized as Sock—with his teeth—ripped the foil packet open and slowly rolled down the condom on Jonathan. Smirking at Jonathan’s reaction, Sock rubbed lube on the condom before crawling up and lining himself up before he sank down.
The look of surprise on Jonathan’s face was priceless. Sock had already prepped himself and lifting himself to the tip before slammed his hips back down ripping out a loud groan from Jonathan. Setting a brutal pace Sock rode this freight train to its final destination rather quickly. Sock leaned in kissing the moan out of Jonathan as he gripped Sock’s hips tightly. Spent, Sock rolled off to get the wash cloth to wipe them down.
About to toss the soiled towel in the hamper, Sock was stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist, “C’mere.”
Twisting out of his grasped Sock walked away tossing the cloth out and bending down to pick up his discarded sweatpants. Turning around coolly while shirtless with love bites all over his neck and chest, Sock smiled humorlessly, “This was the last time we were going to do this. I want you gone by the time I come out of the bathroom.” And walked out without a backward glance.